


Toby Grummett Prompts

by crimsoncomradeposts



Category: The Man Who Killed Don Quixote (2018)
Genre: Edging, F/M, Fluff, Light Bondage, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26598031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsoncomradeposts/pseuds/crimsoncomradeposts
Summary: A collection of short prompts.
Relationships: Toby Grummett/Reader, Toby Grummett/You
Kudos: 9





	1. Not Meant For This

Maybe he isn’t meant for this; isn’t meant for any sort of love in his life. Call it karma for all his shitty behaviors, call it whatever you like, but he knows— _he just knows_ that he’s not meant for anything more.

 _You taint whatever you touch_. He thinks someone’s said that to him once.

They aren’t wrong. He knows that now.

He’d done the one thing he knew could and would cheer him up, to get him up and out of this funk faster than any one night stand ever could. He called you. You’d shown up in a hurry, dropping everything to see him through yet another bad breakup, and when you showed up at his door with bags filled with pints of ice cream and other snacks, it was impossible for him to not smile on the spot.

Which, of course, is how he finds himself now when you reach over with your spoon, dipping it into his bowl of strawberry ice cream and crushed up pretzels to steal yourself a bite. He should be pouting, should be moping around, but he just can’t. Not when you’re here, not when you’re doing things like this.

He hasn’t even bothered with his own spoon, the arm of the hand that’s holding it is now slung against your shoulders as you tuck yourself into his side, fitting perfectly like you were meant to all along. He’s holding the bowl while you alternate between taking bites for yourself and feeding him, and it isn’t until the spoon meets his mouth that the realization hits him.

It’s you.

It’s always been you.

He’d buried his feelings between so many one night stands and short-lived relationships that he’d fooled himself into thinking that he’d only ever harbored friendly feelings towards you. But he knows now, knows when your head rests against his shoulder, knows when his heart picks up into rapid beats that he’s only ever been lying to himself.

He’s in love with his best friend. He’s in love with you.


	2. Tastes Like Summer

You taste like summer when he finally works up the nerve to kiss you, the salty and sweet combination of the pretzels and strawberries lingering on his tongue when it glides along yours. Much to both your and Toby’s displeasure, you have to break the kiss in order to take his spoon and the bowl from him, setting everything down before you’re able to turn and climb up onto his lap.

There are no words at first, no admissions on his part, but you know because you feel it too. You have for a long, long time. It’s in the midst of the kiss that he tells you, whispers to you that he loves you, that he’s sorry that it’s taken him so long to realize it. You answer him only with more kisses, more soft touches when your hands slide up into his silky hair, grasping onto the soft strands as if letting go means to lose him for good.

He keeps you close, his hands centered on your back to press you impossibly closer while your lips meld together in perfect unison.

Toby takes you right there on the couch, your hips rising and falling over his own while you ride him straight towards the edge, the two of you clinging to one another to anchor yourselves to the moment and to each other. He holds you closer still when you both come down from your respective highs, his arms wrapped firmly around you as you slump down against him, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” he whispers again, this time with more conviction.


	3. Tied Up Toby

“ **Oh, baby** ,” you sigh, a hand gliding up and down the length of Toby’s cock, squeezing just enough to stimulate him further when you reach the head, “ **you look so good tied to my headboard**.”

Toby arches up off of the bed, his hips pushing up to chase the stimulation of your hand further, wanting nothing more than to be brough to his release. With a soft gasp you remove your hand from him altogether and run your fingers down along his hip bones, nails scratching at the skin there. He whimpers in response, a low groan following the sound, and you can tell that he’s desperate for it.

But he’s helpless to do anything other than writhe beneath you, his hands and ankles bound by the ropes that you’ve tied.

The two of you have been at this for a good portion of the night, Toby reduces to nothing more than a whining, whimpering mess as you edge him over and over again. “ **Beg for me baby** ,” you instruct as your hand reaches for him again, giving him one more stroke before you release him. Toby’s mouth opens, eyes rolling at the touch, his hips canting once more to chase the touch. “ **Eyes on me**.”

He has to force himself to look at you, his face beaded with sweat, hips rutting up into the air in desperation. “P-please. Please, I just, fuck, I need you to finish this. Please let me cum.”

Your cunt clenches at his plea, fingers ghosting along his inner thighs, teasing touches that have him whimpering all the more. “Please,” he says again, the word no more than a whisper.

You give in then, your hand wrapping around him and stroking his cock with fervor, bringing him to his climax in record time. He cums with a guttural groan, hips thrusting up into your hand as he dots his stomach and chest with his cum.

“That’s my good boy,” you murmur, giving him another squeeze to milk him for everything he’s worth.

Even after you release your hold on him, you leave him tied up in favor of sliding up his body until your thighs frame his face, cunt hovering just barely above his mouth. “Now get me off.”


	4. All Tied Up

You’d waited for him just like you said you would, patient and pretty with your wrists and ankles bound to the bedposts with the cotton braided rope he’d tied you up with before he left for the day. He’d given you an out, of course, leaving one of your wrists with enough slack that you could slip out and untie yourself if need be. But sure as you’d promised him, you’re still here, still naked and spread for his viewing pleasure.

“ **You look so beautiful tied up to my bed** ,” he says, hands working deftly to pop open the buttons of his shirt.

There’s no response on your part, instead you merely watch as Toby sheds each item of clothing, your heart steadily thrumming against your ribs at the view.

Only once he’s fully undressed, cock proudly jutting out, does he step forward to tighten the one restraint against your wrist. “You were so good for me,” he says, his hand drifting down your body to pinch and roll a pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “waiting for me like this.”

Your back arches up into the sensation, eyes fluttering closed just before he reaches further south his free hand to lightly slap at your already wet cunt. The sudden jolt causes your hips to buck, and Toby smirks, cock twitching at the response. His fingers tease at your entrance, barely dipping in and out just as your hips cant against his hand. He tuts, giving you another slap, this one firmer than the last.

The movements of your hips still, and only then does he slip two thick fingers deep, deep into you, curling to reach that sensitive spot within you. A whine bubbles up, the sound quickly followed by a moan as your limbs tug at the restraints, hips once again rocking against him. It isn’t long until he’s got your body convulsing as a wave of pleasure licks up your spine, your cunt clenching around his fingers, trying to suck them in further while you gush against him, soaking both his forearm and the sheets below you.

“Fuck. That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, pulling his hand from you, using your slick to coat his hard cock.

As he climbs onto the bed, he resolves to make you cum like that as many times as he can tonight, until the two of you are both worn out and absolutely spent.


	5. Made Time

He doesn’t normally do this; doesn’t do surprises, doesn’t do the whole romance thing in the way that it’s meant to be, not unless if it’ll get him the benefit of getting off. But this… This is something different, something new for him entirely. For once, he’s not doing this for himself, not entirely. He’s doing this for you.

The two of you have been apart for some time now thanks to your differing schedules; yours taking you to the beautiful crystalline coast in Vernazza, Italy and Toby’s taking him to the dunes of Morocco. But he’s finally found a large enough break in his time that he’s taken the first flight out to see you, and here he is, standing at the door of your rented apartment.

He lifts a hand to rap his knuckles against the door, waiting with bated breath while his other hand grips tightly onto a beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d purchased from a nearby vendor. Toby’s heart thumps wildly in his chest when he hears movement on the other side of the door, and when it’s finally swung open to reveal you, he breaks out into a grin.

“Surprise!”

It takes you a moment to register that it’s him, that it’s _actually_ Toby standing on your doorstep, and when it finally hits you, your eyes wide with recognition, you release a loud squeal of happiness and all but fling yourself into his waiting arms. A deep chuckle rumbles from the depths of his chest when his arms wrap around your frame to hold you close to him.

“I can’t believe you’re really here! How did you manage it?” You pull back just enough to look at him, a hand lifting up to card your finger through his hair.

He takes steps forward to back-peddle you into your apartment, using his foot to shut the door behind him before he responds with a shrug. “I made time.” 

For you, he always will.


	6. In His Place

This isn’t at all what he signed up for. He’s annoyed. He’s _beyond_ annoyed; he’s angry and exasperated and, and, and…

“No, no, _no_! _Cut_!” The script in his hand goes flying, the only saving grace that keeps the papers from scattering and letting the wind take them is the small staple in the upper left-hand corner.

He isn’t sure what’s worse, the fact that his vision isn’t coming together quite like he had hoped, or the fact that _you_ are the reason for the halting of said vision; you and your ideas and your tweaks. You aren’t like anyone else he’s had to work with. You won’t just bow down to his genius, won’t just give him what he wants.

He hates that.

But he thinks that maybe, just maybe, if he tries another, less abrasive tactic then maybe you’ll give him enough wiggle room to let things develop as he’d seen in his mind. Maybe he can get you worked up enough to hang on his every word and then, only then, will he get what he wants…and maybe then some.

“Sweetheart,” he says, his hand gliding along your lower back, slipping around to settle at your hip. Fingers grip the space there, tugging you closer to his side. “Let’s take a break. I think we need to discuss the finer details of the shoot.”

You reach down and grasp the hand at your hip, flash him your sweetest smile, and tug his middle finger backwards until he lets go of you entirely. Toby’s mouth drops open, a shrill cry of pain escaping him just as he pulls his hand from your grasp. “Touch me like that again and this’ll be the last shoot you try and screw up, do you hear me?”

Toby glowers at you, one hand rubbing the affected knuckle of his middle finger. He nods none the less, but says nothing in return, his pride more injured than his finger.

“Good,” you remark, folding your arms across your chest. “And don’t call me sweetheart. I have a name. Use it. You’ll give me the same respect that you expect from everyone else, is that understood?”

More silence follows, and even with the sunglasses that hide his eyes, you can tell that he’s less than pleased with this entire conversation. So much for his vision.

“Do you understand?”

Again, Toby nods, and only then are you satisfied.


	7. Ruined

Leather cuffs press into straining tendon and muscle, keeping Toby bound as he sits naked on a chair in the center of the hotel’s suite. Your hands slowly, slowly work up and down the length of his hardened cock while you sit propped up on your knees between his legs, tits pushed up out of the cups of your bra.

Toby groans, his head tipping back and his eyes flutter closed, trying to focus on the sensation that you’re providing for him. His hips flex upward, and that’s when you remove your hands from him. He groans again, though this time in protest, a whimper quickly following as his hips buck and his head tilts back down to look at you with furrowed brows.

“What did I tell you?” Your tone is firm, your hand giving his cock a little slap, the gesture causing his body to jolt again.

Toby huffs our a breath, doing his best to get his head out of the fog that you’ve brought on, catching his breath before he speaks. “Keep my eyes on you, and don’t move.”

You feign disinterest when he replies, the tip of your finger swirling lightly against the head of his cock, smearing the precum that’s leaked all around him. He inhales a breath that sounds like a hiss, and it’s then that you smile. A soft hum sounds, the noise emanating from you when you nod your head.

“That’s right. And you know that when you don’t do that, you don’t get to cum.”

Toby groans, head lulling back momentarily before he brings his focus to you once more. “ _Please_. Please let me cum. _Fuck_.”

Your hand glides down the length of him again, eyes keeping on his to watch for any missteps. When he fails to look away, you reward him by gripping him tighter, working his cock faster, your tits bouncing with the motion. He cums in no time at all, painting your bare tits with his thick, warm spend.

Once his orgasm has passed, you release your hold on his cock in favor of dipping a finger into the cooling cum on your chest, bringing it up to your mouth for a taste. He strains against his restraints at the sight, and you can’t help but smile up at him.


	8. Visitation

You’re in the midst of packing up your things so that you can return to your office when the door to the classroom opens. “If you’re here for class, you’ve missed it by about five minutes, and the next class isn’t for another hour.”

“I’m not here for class,” says the familiar voice. Immediately, your head whips up to find Toby stepping into the room, turning only briefly to shut the door.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that he fails to lock the door.

“I thought you were headed to Spain.” Your head tilts slightly, movements paused as your hands settle atop the paperwork you’d collected from your class prior to his arrival.

Toby nods, stepping further into the room, his hands now shoved into the pockets of his slacks. “I am. Headed to the airport now, actually.”

You hum in response, unable to help the slight pang of disappointment you feel, the same one you always feel whenever he has to leave. “Needed to take a detour to see you first, though,” he says when he steps closer to you.

The desk is the only thing that separates the two of you, but even that doesn’t last long as Toby rounds the side of the wooden object, his hands leaving the warmth of his pockets in favor of grasping your waist when he comes to stand behind you. He leans in, words whispered low into your ear. “You didn’t really think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?”

Instinctively, your gaze shifts to the unlocked door, a shudder running along your spine just as Toby’s hands slip around to undo the button of your pants. He exhales a soft grunt, the heat of his breath puffing out against the shell of your ear when your ass presses back against his half hard cock, and with your button undone he moves to pull down the zipper. Keeping one hand held firmly on your hip, he dips the other past the elastic waistband of your underwear, the pads of his fingers making contact with your clit in record time.

With a soft gasp, your hips buck into his hand as he works in quick, tight circles against the sensitive bud. “I’m going to miss this,” he says with a low groan. “Going to miss how fuckin’ wet you get for me.”

His fingers slip further down, now pushing two into you as you widen your stance just enough to let him in as deep as he can get at this angle. Your hips rock against him, the obscene _slick slick slick_ of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the otherwise quiet room. “Going to miss this sound and how you clench around my fingers, around my cock.”

“You’ll only be gone two weeks,” you moan, your disappointment long forgotten now as your hips continue to move against his hand.

“That’s two weeks longer than I want to be,” he bites out when his own hips begin to rut up against your ass. “Bend over for me, sweetheart. Get rid of those pants while you’re at it.”

He pulls his finger from you then, eliciting a whine in protest, but you do as he’s instructed regardless. With your pants pulled down, Toby makes quick work of his own, freeing his cock and slicking it up with the hand that’d just been inside you. You reach forward, grasping the edge of the table just as he pulls your underwear aside and presses the head of his cock into your folds, the sensation already pulling a moan from you.

“You have to be quiet for me,” he says, halting his movements. “We don’t want anyone walking in, now do we?”

Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you shake your head in response. “Good girl,” he says just as he thrust forward abruptly to sink deep, deep into you.

You gasp, your cunt clenching around him almost immediately, but by some miracle you manage to keep quiet as he’s instructed. It’s quick, rough, the pace that Toby sets, his heavy thrusts occasionally causing the desk to scoot loudly across the floor—so much for quiet, you think to yourself.

A whimper slips past your lips when you cum, cunt clenching and fluttering around him in such a way that he barely lasts two more strokes before he’s spilling into you with a muffled groan. He waits a moment, allowing the two of you to catch your breaths before he stands upright and pulls his cock from you.

“I want you to keep this in you,” he says, giving your cunt a quick slap before pulling your underwear back in place. “All of it. I want you to feel me inside you while I’m gone. Want you to always be thinking of me. And when I’m back, I’ll fill you up again.”


	9. Meeting An Ex

It’s a hot one in Cannes, and even with all of the shouting of the paparazzi dying to have a photo of Toby and the cast of his latest, greatest movie, he can still hear the sounds of the waves of the ocean crashing nearby. He’s standing at the top of the red carpeted stairs smiling proudly while his eyes are hidden behind the darkness of his sunglasses, letting everyone have their fill of him before he makes his way inside to screen his movie for a select number of individuals.

——————

It isn’t until nightfall that he spots you while he’s mingling with some big names at one of the many after parties that dot the riviera. You’re watching the ocean from your spot on the patio, waves crashing onto the beach in the dark, a drink in your hand, and the dress that you wear flowing freely around your legs. You look every bit as elegant as he remembers you, and Toby finds that he has to down not one, but two glasses of Scotch before he can work up the nerve to approach you.

It’d been, what, months, maybe a year since he’s last seen you? He can’t remember, it’s all been such a blur for him, the only thing that remains vivid in his mind is when you’d walked out on him for the final time.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says when he steps up besides you.

Your gaze flickers over to where he stands, and you can’t help yourself as you snort out a dry laugh. “Still using your shitty one-liners, I see.”

Toby watches while your gaze returns to the ocean, the hand with the drink lifting the glass up to your mouth to take a sip. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, the silence that falls between you now feeling heavy, awkward.

“Congratulations on the movie, by the way. It was good. Very _you_.” He inhales a shuddered breath at your words. Had you really been at the screening? Had he been _that_ self-centered that he’d failed to notice?

Toby clears his throat just as a smile makes an appearance. “Thanks. Didn’t realize you’d been in the screening.”

You hum in response and give a small nod, turning now to face him. “Understandable, you’d been so busy with everything, I didn’t think it fair to take up any of your time.”

“You can always take up as much time as you want.” The words leave him before he even knows what he’s saying, and the second that the words register, he stiffens.

The sudden straightening of his posture doesn’t go unnoticed by you, of course, and you offer a smile of your own. His heart leaps at the sight, though when you lean in to press your lips to his cheek, muttering a ‘take care’ to him, he feels his heart sink deep into the pit of his stomach.

He turns to watch as you walk away without so much as throwing one last look his way. He stands unmoving, wondering if there’s even the slightest sliver of hope that he can repair the damage that he’s done between the two of you.


	10. Home Movies

“Turn around. Hands and knees, that’s it.”

He normally prefers larger cameras when filming, but for _this_ specific purpose, a smaller, handheld one will get the job done just fine. Toby’s got the viewfinder turned and tilted just enough to give him a good view of just what’s being recorded, and right now, it’s pointed directly at your ass as you maneuver into the position he’s just directed you into.

You lower the front half of your body slightly, just enough to press your ass up into the air, thighs widening to expose your slick cunt to the camera. “Fuck,” Toby mutters to himself, cock pressing firmly against the front of his slacks.

Unlike you, who’s naked and bared fully to him, Toby is still fully clothed, too focused on every exposed piece of you to focus on what he’s still got on. He needs this to be hard, quick; he’s got a shoot to get to in a half an hour, but he’s still got enough to time fuck around and film you. There’s always time for that, he tells himself. Especially when it comes to you.

You can hear it, the rustling of fabric and the familiar pop of a button, the sound soon followed by the metallic sound of a zipper lowering. “Go lower,” he says, though he doesn’t even give you a chance to move. His free hand now presses to your upper back, pushing down until your chest and cheek are flush with the mattress. “There. Good. Stay just like that.”

His hand leaves your back in order to pull his hard cock free from the confines of his boxers and pants. Giving himself tentative strokes, he leans over to set the camera in a position that he’s sure will give him the best angle of him fucking you from behind. Toby shifts and moves closer to you on the bed, grasping your hip with one hand while the other grasps his cock. He runs the tip of it up and down the length of your cunt, gathering your slick onto it with a soft groan.

Positioning himself against you, he thrusts his hips forward to sink deep, deep into you, both hands now gripping your hip like a vice. A sharp gasp escapes you, the sound quickly followed up with a loud moan when he fills and stretches you.

He’s never been a gentle lover, that much you’ve come to know, so it comes as no surprise to you when he doesn’t even allow you time to adjust to the size of him. Instead, he sets a fast, rough pace, your body sliding up along the mattress with each thrust. Each time you get a little too far away, he utilized his grasp on your hips to tug you back to him, emitting grunts and groans that mingle with your own whimpers and moans.

It’s quick, it has to be. It always is. He’s got places to go, people to see, but he’ll always make time for you, no matter how fast these trysts may be.

Your finger snakes down to touch your clit, rubbing against it hastily to bring yourself to climax in record time. Toby’s close behind, of course, the tight squeeze of your cunt causing him to shout your name out as he slams into you once, twice, three more times before he pulls out. One hand reaches for the camera while the other grips his cock, tugging and stroking to bring himself closer and closer to his release. He films himself when he orgasms, recording it as he paints your back with thick tops of his cum.

Only when the sensation subsides does he shut the camera off and give your ass a slap before moving away and tucking himself back into his slacks. He takes the camera with him when he leaves, of course. Keeps the tape for his own viewing pleasure until he sees you again.


	11. Oblivious

A hand wraps around your wrist just as you turn to attend to more of your duties, having just dropped off Toby’s first coffee of the morning. Your steps halt immediately, and you turn just as the swipe of a thumb can be felt across the inside of your wrist.

“How do you do it?”

Your brows furrow, head tilting as if to emphasize that you’re attempting to grasp what Toby’s asking of you. “What do you mean?”

“The coffee.”

A small, silent ‘o’ forms with your mouth, and you shrug, making no attempts to pull your arm from his grasp, even as he continues to stroke the soft skin with his thumb. “It’s the same as every day. I just go and put in your order like you like and bring it straight back to you.”

Toby hums appreciatively, using the hand at your wrist to tug you closer to him. “Do you ever think that maybe your talents are wasted?”

Again, the space between your brows crease, this time accompanied by a frown. “Is there something wrong with the coffee? Did I mess something up?”

Oh. Oh, this is not how he thought this would go at all. His head shakes, but he tries again. “No. No, what you’ve been doing has been great. You’re a great PA, but I was thinking that you and I could be something a little…. _more_.”

“More…? More like what? I don’t think there’s any other spots open, and I mean, being a PA is about as close as you can get with a director, you know.” The expression on your face says it all: you’re lost. You’re not picking up what he’s laying down, and oh, surely he can’t have lost his touch.

Exhaling an exasperated breath, he just comes right out with it. “I’m… This…” He sighs heavily. “I’m flirting with you!”

It takes a moment, but realization finally dawns, and he’s relieved when it finally does. “Oh, is _that_ what this is? I thought you were mad about the coffee.”

Toby lifts a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “No. No, I am not mad about the coffee.”

“You know,” you start, your words spoken very matter-of-factly, “if you wanted to sleep with me, you could have just said so.”

And now it’s Toby’s turn to look lost. He’d tried that in the past with other women and it’d only earned him multiple slaps across the face.

“Anyways,” you sigh, retrieving your pen and your clipboard to quickly jot something down, “here’s my number.” Ripping off the piece you’d written on, you hand it to him. “Call me.”

And call you he does.


End file.
